Reversion (The Narrows of Time Series Book 3) (38 page)

He made eye contact with Leonard, giving him a quick head nod before shifting a half step to the left to give the kid more room for his be-bopping moves. Lucas looked away, not wanting his growing smirk to insult the kid. Leonard may have only been a pudgy teenager, but he out-weighed Lucas by a good hundred pounds. Granted, it was mostly flab, but his mind flashed Newton’s second law of motion. It was an equation he knew all too well: mass times acceleration equals force. The kinetic energy delivered by a punch from the music junkie would have been powerful regardless of their respective ages or the tone of his muscle mass. Or lack thereof.

His sneer dissipated when he brought his eyes forward and checked the floor buttons. His destination was already selected. In fact, the G button was the only one lit on the control panel. The descent was going to be easy and quick. No extra stops along the way since everyone was traveling to the garage.

The doors started to close, then stopped in midmotion as a series of time distortion events smacked him in the face. Wave after wave flowed through the elevator, bringing with them changes to the people in the car with him and their positions. Leonard was there, then he wasn’t. Lucas found himself alone in the lift and then standing outside of it looking in. Each time, the doors to the lift remained open, almost like they were frozen across time and space, an oddity to say the least. During one iteration, he was the only male in a car loaded with teenage candy stripers. Four more time waves washed through the area, then the ripples stopped. As he expected, everything seemed to be back to normal. Leonard was next to him, dancing to his music and hogging up most of the space around him.

The doors finished their close, reminding him of the final curtain of a Broadway show, but they stopped when a woman’s hand appeared from outside. The closing process reversed course and a frantic face came into view a few moments later. It was Drew’s mom.

“Sorry!” Lauren told everyone waiting inside. She ran a hand over her cheeks, clearing away a run of tears dripping from both eyes. She was clearly upset—probably by the sudden phone call from Employee Services she’d received a few minutes before.

Lauren sniffed twice after she stepped inside the elevator, keeping her purse wrapped in her arms and pressed flat against her chest. Her hands were shaking.

Two elderly women wearing matching poodle sweaters and identical crocheted handbags split apart from each other in the front row. Lauren moved between them, spinning on her flats to face the front with her shoulders pinned against the ladies. She leaned in front of the grandma on her right and pressed the already-lit G button on the control panel several times.

“Come on!” she snapped, pressing it again and again until the doors began to close. “Finally!”

“Is everything okay, dear?” the woman on her right asked her in a slow, motherly voice.

“My son. I’ve got to get to my son. Daycare just called and told me he fell off the monkey bars and hurt his leg. My poor baby!”

“Is it broken?”

“I don’t know. They said he’s crying and in a lot of pain,” she said, sobbing out loud.

The woman rubbed her hand on Lauren’s back, consoling her like any grandmother would do. “Did they call an ambulance?”

“No, we can’t afford that. Besides, I’m a nurse and I’ve seen what comes into the ER. I don’t want anyone moving him unless I’m there to supervise.”

“Which daycare?”

“ABCs.”

“Is it far?” the woman asked.

“Ten minutes, if I make all the lights,” Lauren answered, adjusting the straps of her purse across her shoulder. “And I
will
make all the lights!”

Lucas wrapped his fingers around Lauren’s keys in his right hand.

The elevator’s chime binged and its overhead floor indicator changed to highlight the
G
symbol. The doors swooshed open and Lauren took off running in an instant.

Lucas waited for the elevator to clear and his fellow occupants to scatter. They did, like rats evacuating a sinking ship. Once the elevator was empty, he stepped out and started in her direction, following after her as she ran through a connecting hallway. He walked as fast as he could, not wanting to be seen chasing after an emotionally distraught woman.

He looked at the ceiling, darting his eyes in search of the surveillance cameras, but there were none. Then it hit him—in this time period, Big Brother wasn’t watching everything, not like they would be in another twenty-plus years. Normally, he was a proponent of technology and the wonderful advances that came with it, but not today. He was thankful for the lack of real-time monitoring; otherwise, what he was about to do would’ve surely been caught on at least one video feed.

Earlier, he’d been worried about Lauren noticing him as he followed her to the car, but that wasn’t the case anymore. She was about fifty feet ahead of him, locked in a half sprint and seemingly focused on a single task—getting to her vehicle quickly.

A minute later, a blanketing shadow from the overhead structure masked her body when she entered the first row of cars. A heavy heartbeat knocked at his chest, reminding him of the difficult task ahead, especially if he lost track of her. He changed from a fast walk to a straight-legged jog, trying to find that graceful efficiency that exists somewhere between walking and running. It worked, smoothing his stride and leveling his vision, but he couldn’t see her anymore.

Even though darkness had her, it wasn’t time to panic. At least not yet. He had her car keys locked in his hand, so she wasn’t going anywhere. Not unless she had a backup set hiding in her purse. He figured the chances of that were slim. After all, who hauls around two sets of keys in case one of them gets lost? But she could have one of those magnetic key cases stuck under the lip of her car’s wheel well—a thief’s best friend and a vehicle owner’s worst nightmare.

It wasn’t long before he entered the same outcrop of darkness that had swallowed Lauren only a minute before. He looked up and noticed the overhead light was out. He looked down and waited for his eyes to adjust before scanning the area. He didn’t see any movement. There should be someone around, somewhere. If not Lauren, then another staff member or a hospital visitor coming or going. But it was eerily still and dead quiet inside the parking garage, except for his feet pounding on the cement. No car doors—no car stereo music—no voices—no engine whine. Not even the distant sound of squealing tires making a sharp corner on the smooth concrete floors.

Lucas realized Lauren might be difficult to spot, especially if she moved off in the distance. He stopped, wanting to consider his options. His hands moved on their own, making their way to his hips while he took in a few extra gulps of air to pacify his heaving chest.

He angled his head down a few degrees and let his focus run into a soft blur. The new plan was to remain perfectly still and allow his peripheral vision and hearing to take over the search. They did, soaking in every drop of sensory input from the concrete surroundings. But alas, they came up empty, just as his normal vision had. He was stumped.

Had she already found her car and realized she didn’t have her keys? If so, maybe she circled around and went back inside the hospital to find them. Or had she gone to another level, leaving him in the dust and unable to follow her? Or could she have hitched a ride with someone else after discovering her keys were missing?

Just when he was about to panic, he heard something from his left. It was a woman’s voice, slicing through the silence.

“No! No! No!” the girl said. “Damn it!”

She sounded like she was a few rows over, somewhere behind the twin support columns standing alone. The voice was familiar and might be Lauren’s, but he really couldn’t be sure. It was possible he wanted the voice to be hers and was hearing what he wanted to hear.

Lucas took off running in her direction, not stopping to think it through. His mind was focused on one thing—find Lauren and jack her car. But he’d have to wait for her to leave the area, which he figured would happen as soon as she realized her keys were not in her purse. She’d probably remember placing them on the garbage bin and run back to the hospital. That would be his chance, but he’d have to find her now and do so before she left the car behind to go find her keys. Otherwise, he wouldn’t know which car was hers.

He increased his pace, weaving in and out of the vehicles in the next several rows, dodging a zigzag of door mirrors and the occasional spot of trash on the concrete. When he broke through the fifth row of Detroit metal, he stopped next to a dented Cutlass with sanded gray primer streaks across its hood. Its driver had backed it into the spot.

The uphill ramp corridor of the garage stood before him. So did Lauren, just thirty feet to the right and across the empty expanse. She was digging through her purse while standing next to a white Ford Escort with fancy pin-striping along the side. He assumed it was her car. The vehicle was covered with yellow and red flames that looked to have been hand-drawn. Except for the paint job, it was exactly the kind of car he expected a struggling, single mom to drive. Not that it mattered—he had his answer and knew the ride. She just needed to leave, then he could execute the final part of the plan.

A thin smile grew on his lips when he realized the nightmare would soon be over—finally. All that remained was to keep her from driving home tonight with Drew and there’d be no car accident. No accident would keep her alive and Drew’s legs intact. Drew would never end up in the orphanage and they’d never meet and become foster brothers.

He nodded slowly, realizing his agonizing saga was nearing its conclusion. Soon, everything would be set right across the multiverse. A long, slow breath escaped his lungs and his heart rate calmed a bit. Just one more step and the future would forever be changed. All those billions of innocents who died would live again, cleansing his hands of the blood and ridding the guilt from his soul.

The plan was elegant in its simplicity, but he needed to hold his celebration a bit longer. The final task might prove to be more difficult than he expected.

She moved to the front of the Escort and dumped the contents of her purse across the hood. Lauren was crying and talking to herself as her hands were tossing items around, looking for her keys.

Lucas needed her to get herself together and go find her keys—now. He couldn’t stand around much longer. Eventually, someone would cruise by and notice a man lurking in the darkness, stalking a pretty young nurse across the way.

Right on cue, Lauren stopped sobbing. She turned away from the car and started walking in the direction of the hospital.

Lucas moved back a step and lowered his body, keeping his eyes trained on her. Fifteen feet later, Lauren’s swollen eyes swung in Lucas’ direction. He ducked behind the Cutlass and moved to the trunk of the vehicle. He didn’t think she saw him, but he couldn’t be sure. Regardless, he needed to time his movements around the back of the sedan to match her forward advance. If he was able to keep the Cutlass firmly between them as she moved, he’d keep his location a secret.

His mind’s eye imagined her speed and course, counting a full second for each of her anticipated steps. He moved slowly past the trunk and around to the far side, staying low and watchful. The front of the car came upon him quickly as he listened to the echo of her nearby footsteps. She was to his left, and close. Damn close. That much was clear. He kept his head low and listened, trying to calculate her direction and distance. However, the footsteps stopped before he could gather enough information to pinpoint her location.

He froze for a second and waited—now pressing his shoulder against the Cutlass, only a few inches in front of the right tire. Nothing changed. The area was all quiet, except for the stampede beating away inside his chest. He dropped to his knees and looked under the car, peering out past the front bumper. The area directly in front of the Cutlass was all he could see, but her feet and legs weren’t there.

A sudden thought came unbidden into his mind, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and tingle wildly. It was something he hadn’t considered before. What if she didn’t cruise past the Cutlass as he expected? What if she took off her shoes and was circling around behind? What if she was trained in martial arts, or armed with that .357 he’d visualized earlier and was about to start spraying and praying?

He was totally exposed and unprepared. His breath held as his body swung around to check the area behind. He feared the worst, but only saw more parked cars and the empty space between them—except for a flattened soda can sitting under the edge of a badly worn tire. He released a breath when he realized she wasn’t standing there ready to open fire and put holes in his skinny frame.

The sound of footsteps started again on his left, this time at a faster pace than before. He peered over the hood of the car. There she was—a good twenty-five feet away—walking with fervor in her step. A moment later, she was beyond the garage exit, traveling through the night air outside, likely heading for the entrance to the hospital—a calculated shortcut, he imagined.

He smiled and brought his eyes around to check the Ford Escort across the way—all clear—nobody around. He verified her location again—still scurrying toward the hospital. It was time, he decided. Time to make his move.

The keys in his hand jingled when he brought them up and began to sort through them. He found the largest key, figuring it was the one to her Ford Escort. He pinned it between his fingers and stood up, walking with an even pace. He reminded himself to act natural and pretend like he owned the place. If he held his calm, it would appear as though he was simply heading to his car, just like anyone else.

His eyes darted around the garage level, but there were no signs of life. It was odd. Only the two of them had been in the garage the entire time. He wasn’t sure why, but it was nagging at him like something was off. Then again, maybe it was just his nerves. He decided to shrug it off since it truly didn’t matter at this point. Only about ten more steps to her car and he would reset history once and for all.